Get Adobe Flash player
The missionary's wife was summoned to the station where she was handed her husband's belongings and told to come back the following day. Being handed her husband's belongings in such a brusque manner and not knowing his impending fate was almost too much for her. Now she had to go home and appear strong before her children and the church members the next day. The national Christians with her husband were released. They and the missionary wife solemnly headed back to town. A sense of hopelessness prevailed. What would happen? What could they do? They could pray—and that they did! Inside the station, the missionary was booked and told to remove his shoes and socks before entering the small jail cell. The filthy cell was roughly twelve feet square and reeked of urine and sweat and was already occupied by nine other men! By this time it was late at night and most of the inmates were asleep on the floor, all sharing just four blankets. The missionary sank down against the cold, stone wall and prepared himself for a rough night in a confined room of men with very questionable character. As he closed his eyes, a flood of emotions swept over him as he relived the events of the day. Feelings of horror for actually having killed a man, isolation from his family and fear of the future outcome seemed almost overwhelming. Would he, a foreigner in an African court, be charged with murder? Would he have to leave the country? How could he endure a single night in this miserable place, much less weeks? With a broken heart and humble spirit, he prayed for God's grace and strength in this lonely hour. Within a few moments, one of the prisoners reached under his blanket and pulled out a grass mat and handed it to the weary missionary. A short time later, a small pillow was offered. A few hours later, a foam mattress was shoved through the bars of the